


Breaking Point

by lindsaytugg_jones (Ahwuum)



Series: Jerevin giving each other some good TLC [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - GTA V, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Angst, Established Relationship, Fake AH Crew, Hurt/Comfort, M rating for violence, M/M, it's not super graphic but it is a little detailed in some parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:00:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21544903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahwuum/pseuds/lindsaytugg_jones
Summary: Months on end without break in the war on the Fakes, weeks on end of Jeremy hunting down a rat from their crew and pushing himself to the brink to make it back home alive. When he does return, Gavin's there to pick up the pieces.
Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Gavin Free
Series: Jerevin giving each other some good TLC [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552714
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> Aha so... I immediately wrote a sequel to the oneshot I finished yesterday oops. I hope it's alright!!! I honestly don't know anymore I'm super exhausted so let me know what you think <3 it's probably not as good as the first.

So. He’s kind of a hypocrite.

Look, it’s not his fault alright? The crew’s just been really busy lately, constantly putting out the fires of other crews; revolts, betrayals, whatever you want to call it, it seems like every smaller crew in LS is trying to take a stab at the Fakes. None of them succeed, of course, the whole crew’s made sure of that.

But most of all Jeremy.

See, he’s the muscle right? So he goes along to all the negotiations even if he isn’t the one doing them himself, ready to fight, ready to protect himself and protect whoever’s doing the talking this time round. It means he’s out almost all day, every day, barely making it back to the penthouse with enough time to catch a few hours of sleep.

He doesn’t complain, knows everyone’s pushing themselves just as hard, running themselves ragged trying to get more weapons, trying to rebuild the stock that got taken out from an explosion one of the rival crews set a month back. There’s negotiations, tortures, shoot outs that end with a bullet in Jeremy’s side that’s barely healed when he has to race across half the country trying to track down some rat in the lower ranks of the crew who’d turned on them for a quick buck.

How stupid can you be?

Of course Jeremy goes after him, ignores the others warnings, ignores their assurances that  _ we’ll get him, Jeremy, later. We don’t have time to deal with one guy who’s run off who knows where when we have the whole city trying to take us down and you still out of commission. _

But the thing is he knows they won’t, knows the guy will slip through the cracks as easily as water through cupped hands because the longer they wait, the more he’ll be able to disappear, the colder the leads will get. And they’re right, the crew doesn’t have time for this, doesn’t have the resources with Jeremy unable to help out because of this stupid bullet wound.

And  _ sure _ , he hasn’t gotten an actual good night’s sleep in months, has been running on a couple hours a night and sheer willpower, has a fucking  _ bullet wound  _ still healing on his side, but he’s had worse (no he hasn’t) so what’s the harm? It’ll be easy, anyway, it’s not like he’ll need to fight; he just needs to keep driving, stopping at shitty motels where the beds have springs sticking out of the mattress and cockroaches dead on the floor along the way until he can finally pin the guy down.

It takes weeks, longer than he expected by more than he’s willing to admit—it was supposed to be  _ easy, _ it was supposed to be a quick job to help out the crew—and of course he’d left a note for the guys, but he’s sure they’re all worrying themselves into an early grave by this point.

He just keeps telling himself to keep pushing, drive faster, evade the cops that come after him, stop at the shitty motels even less, start catching an hour or two in his car instead, keep following the leads that he knows will eventually lead him to the guy. Stitch up that stab wound some wannabe robber gave him before he could get his arms around his neck and  _ pull _ , does it with shaking hands and tear-stained cheeks, mind starting to fray at the edges from the stress. If he wasn’t already bald, he’s sure by now all his hair would have fallen out.

It’s hard work, but somehow he manages, somehow his determination, his endless pursuit eventually pays off.

Jeremy corners him in some abandoned warehouse he’d been spending a few nights crashing in, manages to avoid his shots until he can get up close, until he can bring his knife down straight into his heart (cuts off the guy’s tongue as a fucking  _ symbol _ , don’t fuck with the Fakes because they’ll fuck you over ten times harder) and pin him down while the blood spurts out and starts pooling on the cement. He gets covered in the stuff, feels it dripping down from his eyebrow and brushes it away so it doesn’t get in his eyes.

And then… It’s done.

The guy stops twitching, lays there motionless with his bloody, mutilated mouth hanging open and eyes glassy, lifeless. And Jeremy’s covered in blood, covered in sweat and grime that he hasn’t stopped to wash off in days, hands trembling against the knife and trying to get his ragged breathing back under control.

It’s  _ done _ .

With a sort of numbness, he sees more than feels himself pull the knife from the man’s chest, stand up slowly and stare down at the man laying dead beneath him. Then he just… Walks away, gets in his car, leaves the bloody knife on the passenger seat and starts driving.

He doesn’t stop until he’s back in Los Santos, almost a full day of driving without stopping to rest, fueled by adrenaline and barely continuing on by the grit of his teeth. The blood on his hands dries, cracks and flakes off a little, but he doesn’t notice. There’s only one thought in his mind as he grips the wheel so tight his knuckles turn white and his foot stomps the gas pedal straight into the floor—Gavin. Get home to Gavin.

Home, home, home, get  _ home _ , get home to his crew, his family, get home to his boyfriend.

It’s irrational, the fear he suddenly feels now that it’s all over, that something might have happened while he was away, that everything might have changed, that Gavin could hate him for leaving without a word. The worst fear of all is that they didn’t notice, that they might have forgotten about him.

He drives desperately, like every spare second not spent doing everything he can to get back to Gavin is a complete waste; another step closer to his fears being realised.

He stops for gas a few times, but he doesn’t stick around long enough to pay, that’s just a waste of time right? Anyway eventually the sirens get drowned out and the lights in his rear-view mirror disappear, so it all works out in the end right?

And then Jeremy starts to see familiar areas, the outskirts of LS, big houses, fields of farmland and tractors roaming the roads, Mt Chiliad always in his peripheral. The cityscape has never looked so nice before, so welcoming and safe and  _ home _ .

The base is only a few minutes away once he reaches Rockford Hills; he can see the towering building already and he races impossibly faster just to get there. The garage opens up for him miraculously, like they’d been expecting him. Maybe they had, maybe Gavin had been watching the security cams waiting for Jeremy’s return. Or maybe it’s just coincidence.

He gets his answer when he pulls into a spot and opens the door only to find Gavin standing by the elevator, waiting.

He looks tired, but not nearly as much as  _ that  _ time, just like he’s been too worried to get a proper sleep. His arms are crossed over his chest, but he doesn’t seem mad, just… Sad.

And he knows from the look on Gavin’s face that he’s thinking the same thing that Jeremy is, too.

_ Hypocrite _ .

The minute he sees Gav is the minute all the remaining energy drains for him, his legs trembling as he pushes himself just to make it to Gavin’s side again.

“Is it yours?” Gavin asks, taking a few steps forward to meet Jeremy, looking at all the blood and inspecting him for wounds. Despite how good he is at concealing his emotions, Jeremy knows him well enough now to notice the panic hidden in his eyes.

“No.” He simply says, then lets some of his weight rest on Gavin, lets himself be manoeuvred into the elevator and falls back against one of the walls when the doors close. He shuts his eyes and lets the dull humming fill his ears, fill his mind so it’s not overrun with all the emotion he’s feeling about being home again, about seeing Gavin again.

When it’s about halfway up, Gavin speaks again, “The promise goes both ways you know.” He says and Jeremy opens his eyes to see his fists clenched at his sides, trembling.

“I know.”

If anyone isn’t going to judge him, if anyone’s going to understand why he did what he did, it’s Gavin. That doesn’t make it any easier when the silence rings louder in his ears than yelling ever could. He knows he deserves it.

The elevator dings then opens up into the penthouse, deserted and silent for once in a way that he hasn’t seen since all this started.

“We sorted it.” Gavin explains, and Jeremy knows he means they’ve fixed the mess they’d gotten themselves into. The war is over, but at what cost to all of them? He won’t know until he sees the others.

He takes Jeremy back to their room, the one they share now that they’re together (Gavin’s old room now turned into his personal study where he won’t be interrupted while working) and locks the door behind them quietly.

Under the harsh white light of the bathroom, Jeremy can see every gruesome detail clearly as Gavin helps him peel back every bloody layer.

Fingers run over fresh scars on his back, only a small sniffle from Gavin breaking the silence as he meets Jeremy’s eyes in the mirror. He doesn’t have any energy left to say anything, doesn’t have an explanation, doesn’t have any reassurances left in him for Gavin because honestly? He’s  _ not fucking fine. _

He knows, he knows, he knows. Idiot. Pushing himself too far for the family he’d do anything to protect, killing himself trying to gain affection that they’re already more than willing to give.

What is he doing?

Gavin turns him around to inspect his chest, fingers lightly brushing over the messy stitches on Jeremy’s abdomen that look straight out of a horror film. It drives him crazy, the silence that Gavin leaves as his fingers dance over the bruised and battered paper-white skin of Jeremy’s skin. He knows how he looks, like he’s on death's door and probably ready to pass out any minute.

He doesn’t. Holds on until Gavin gets the rest of his clothes off him, helps him into the shower and pushes him gently under the water, scrubbing his skin just with his hands to try and get the blood off. The hands that rub over his face are gentle, warm on the skin there that feels so cold now that he knows how to recognise it. He’s still numb, but less so with Gavin holding him

And there’s this moment where it all just… Breaks. The numbness starts to fade and the exhaustion stabs him just like the knife to his gut, the stress of everything is finally over but it’s left a mark, a permanent scar on his heart he’ll never forget.

He cries, just breaks down right in front of Gavin, lets him hold his face and shush him, lets the soothing words wash over him as his body wracks with his sobs.

“I’m sorry.” Jeremy says, because there’s nothing else to say. He feels like he’s breaking, tearing apart at the seams as everything from the past few weeks starts to sink in. But as always, Gavin is there to hold him together, the light in his life that understands him in the way only Gavin can, the way only Gavin can see him.

“It’s alright,” Gavin whispers into his cheek, kissing his face a few times, “I know. I forgive you. It’s alright now.”

And then he just holds him, brings Jeremy’s head against his chest and uses his other hand to rub the top of his back and shoulders. It’s probably not a very nice feeling, Jeremy’s back littered with scars from throughout the years, but Gavin’s never seemed to mind. There’s been a few quiet nights spent together in the dark, Gavin’s fingers tracing over each line, each divet and bump in his skin, whispered affections and loving kisses. It feels the same, but completely difference, love tinged with sadness.

Eventually the tears just stop coming, his breathing still harsh and fast into Gavin’s chest, but slowly evening out until Jeremy’s just clutching at him with trembling hands, basking in the safety he provides.

Then it’s like that night so many months ago, tables turned on him as Gavin runs soap along his body, scrubbing him down until all the pink suds have washed away down the train, until his skin is squeaky clean and he smells like vanilla and raspberry. His skin is soft and supple after Gavin’s attention, and he sits waiting patiently until Gavin’s done shampooing his own hair and scrubbing himself down as well. Probably hasn’t had a proper shower in a few days himself.

When he’s done, he reaches to turn the water off and Jeremy finds himself reaching up, something desperate in him finally bubbling up as he grabs the sides of Gavin’s jaw and pulls him close so he can press their lips together softly. His lips tremble, but Gavin makes up for Jeremy’s lack of energy, pulling him closer and kissing him back with stuttered breath and trembling lips of his own.

“I thought you-”

“I know.”

“You were gone so long and you only left a note, how could you do that?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You weren’t even healed! You still aren’t and now you’ve got a  _ new _ -”

“I know.” Jeremy says and bumps his forehead against Gavin’s, letting him have this moment, waiting until his breathing slows down again and he doesn’t look like he’s about to burst into tears.

He reaches behind himself to turn off the water, pushing some wet hair out of Gavin’s eyes before leaning down to give him another quick kiss, lips lingering for a moment. “I’m sorry.” He repeats, running his hands along Gavin’s shoulders and down his arms soothingly.

“I know… I forgave you the moment you left, you knob, but that didn’t stop me from worrying.” Gavin says, pulling back to look at him, rubbing a thumb over Jeremy’s cheek; a touch he leans into instantly.

They don’t say anything else, just get out of the shower with Gavin taking on most of his weight until he can prop him against the sink like Jeremy had done for him. Then there’s a towel wrapped around him and Gavin’s disappearing off back into the room to grab clothes for them both. When he comes back he has his own pajama pants on and he hands Jeremy some sweats and a tank to put on. He pulls the top on with little difficulty, but he needs to lean on Gavin to get the pants on, hand gripping his bony shoulder as softly as he can so he doesn’t hurt him.

“Alright, sleep time, yeah? I’ll get you something to eat when you wake up.” Gavin says, taking Jeremy’s hand lightly in his grip then pulling him from the bathroom, switching the light off and pushing him into bed. He gets under the covers without protest but snags Gavin’s wrist when it looks like he’s about to leave.

“Where are you going?” Jeremy asks, unable to even push himself back up into a sitting position. He must look pretty pathetic, but he can’t bring himself to care, not when it’s Gavin.

“I’m going to go call Kdin, J, you stay here okay? She needs to come have a look at you and the rest of the guys should know you’ve come back too, they’ve been looking for you-”

“Can it wait?” Jeremy pulls Gavin’s wrist a little closer, watching him shuffle forward until he’s close enough that he can pull Gavin’s wrist up to his lips, “I just… I just want…  _ This _ , for now. I just need to sleep knowing you’re beside me, knowing I’m home and I don’t have to  _ worry-” _

He cuts himself off and takes a steadying breath. He’s too tired to cry again now.

“Please?” Jeremy asks, watches Gavin purse his lips and shuffle his feat, conflicted.

“Alright,” Gavin’s voice is soft, and then he’s climbing over Jeremy, pushing himself under the covers and settling himself at his side, “I’m here. I’ll stay. I’ll stay however long you need, always.  _ Always _ , Jeremy.”

And as soon as he hears those words, as soon as he feels Gavin’s warmth wrapping around him like a cocoon and feels hair tickling his chin, Jeremy’s out like a light.

It’s funny, how easy it is. Even if he’d wanted to sleep properly these past few weeks, even if he’d had the time, he’s never been able to get a good night’s sleep without Gavin since they got together. Having him here is home, safety, warmth and love and security that he can fall asleep. Having Gavin at his side feels like how they were meant to be, like his chest was molded perfectly for Gavin to slot in against, like their hands were incomplete separate.

When he wakes up its with searing pain in his side and abdomen, and he has no clue just how long it’s been, his sleep dreamless and feeling almost instant; like he’d shut his eyes one second and opened them again the next.

Except when he looks at the clock, it’s been almost 20 hours.

Fuck.

By this point Gavin’s long gone from his side—and Jeremy’s not upset in the slightest because honestly? 20  _ fucking hours _ ?—but he can hear distant voices outside his room, hushed and muffled so that Jeremy can’t understand what they’re saying, but he recognises them.

Kdin’s here and Jeremy’s quick to notice the fresh bandages on both the bullet wound on his side and the stab wound in his abdomen as he realises he’s already been checked over. So, cat’s out of the bag now, huh?

Time to face the music.

He staggers to the door like he’s downed a whole bottle of vodka; feet tripping over themselves and his head spinning, pounding. It’s all caught up to him now, no more adrenaline to keep the joint pains at bay, to make him numb to the deep purple bruises that litter his body and both the stitched wounds that are starbursts of pain cutting through his vision now. He needs Kdin to get him some fucking drugs.

When Jeremy pokes his head out into the hallway, it’s to find all the main crew standing around in the living room. Geoff’s got his arms crossed, having words with Kdin while Jack stands at his side, holding herself tightly and a worried expression on her face. Ryan stands a bit away from them, facing Kdin’s direction but with his mask on (a bad sign, something Ryan only does when he’s upset or doesn’t feel safe anymore. He’ll probably have to earn his battle buddy’s trust again after this little stunt) and as Jeremy steps out further into the hallway, he can just about see Michael behind the stove in the kitchen. There’s a faint sizzling and the smell of a steak being cooked.

Worst of all is Gavin, curled in on himself on the couch where no one is looking at him, face hidden by the arms he has crossed on his knees as he rests his chin there. But Jeremy doesn’t  _ need  _ to see his face to know just from his body language how upset he is.

And before he can even think of sneaking back into his room in an attempt to escape any explanations, Ryan’s head twitches slightly and he hears him clear his throat. Everyone looks at him, then follows the direction he’s looking straight to Jeremy down the hall, leaning against the wall for support.

“Jeremy!” Gavin exclaims, jumping off the couch and rushing to him, “what are you doing out of bed? You need rest!”

“I got twenty hours of rest, Gav, I think I’m good for now.” Jeremy waves him off, but lets Gavin take his arm and hook it around his shoulder, limping into the living room with him to join everyone else.

“Good timing, two more minutes and I woulda’ come in and force fed you in your sleep or something, since it seems like you haven’t had a proper meal in fucking weeks. I couldn’t wait for you to wake up any longer.” Michael says from the kitchen, turning the heat off the stove and using a pair of tongs to grab the steak he’d been cooking and pull it onto a plate. When he turns around, he's got his signature scowl, but there’s a weariness to his eyes and a little relief.

“Sorry,” Jeremy laughs softly, “guess I just really didn’t wanna see your dumb face.” Michael huffs, a twitch of a smile on his face before he’s turning around again and rummaging through the fridge for something.

Gavin helps him onto the couch and immediately Kdin descends upon him, pulling up his tank with no sense of shame so she can inspect his wounds a bit closer now that he’s awake. “ _ Look  _ at these stitches Jeremy,” she says, “just what were you thinking? Do you know how much it’s going to take to fix this mess, huh? Look, they’re infected!”

“You give me anything for it yet? ‘Cus if you did, I don’t feel anything. Or rather, I feel a  _ lot  _ right now, mostly pain.”

Kdin sighs and opens up her kit, pulling out some cotton pads and pouring some liquid onto them before brushing them against Jeremy’s wound. Gritting his teeth, he forces himself not to shout at how fucking painful it is, like salt in the wound except it’s more like fucking  _ acid _ . “Of course I did, gave you some Morphine but that was a few hours ago, it’s probably worn off by now so I’ll have to give you more. Just let me clean this for now, okay?” She asks, rubbing the solution over the stitches again and squinting in concentration.

“Can’t you do this  _ after _ you give me the Morphine?”

“But then you wouldn’t learn your lesson, would you? How many times have I told you-”

Geoff clears his throat to cut them both off and Jeremy looks over his shoulder at him while Kdin rummages around for her needles and the Morphine bottle.

“Glad to see you’re awake and back  _ alive, _ Jeremy, but you think you might wanna start doing some explaining?” He asks, arms still crossed tightly over his chest as Jack elbows him hard.

“He  _ just  _ woke up, we’re going to start badgering him already? He’s still not healed yet, we need to give him some time-” and then they’re off bickering in the way only Jack and Geoff do, too caught up in their little argument to interrogate Jeremy any further. He’s relieved for it now, but he knows it’ll still have to be addressed eventually.

While he’s not looking, Kdin grabs his arm and sticks a  _ fucking needle  _ in him,  _ ouch _ , and looks totally unapologetic when Jeremy looks at her accusingly.

“That should last you another few hours,” she says, closing up her kit, seemingly satisfied for now, “so I’ll come back then, give you another shot and maybe take a proper look at you, I don’t think I’ll be able to with all these chucklefucks around.” Then she stands up, hoists the strap of her kit onto her shoulder and says her goodbyes.

Jeremy watches her go, feeling his last chance of stalling this a little longer slip right out of his grasp. Which just leaves him with Gavin, Gavin who’s looking at him with worry, Gavin who’s helping him pull the tank back down before crawling back onto the couch with Jeremy and wrapping his arms tightly around his body.

“You realise now that you’re awake and you don’t look like you’re  _ literally  _ about to die we’re going to have a serious talk, right? About how you’re a complete hypocrite and how you owe me  _ so many kisses-” _

“Yeah, I know,” Jeremy sighs and gives him the first of many kisses to come on the top of his head, “I  _ am  _ a total hypocrite. And an asshole. I should have never left, I’m sorry. I just felt so useless under house arrest and you guys were struggling and I really felt like this was something I could actually do to help, but I should have listened, should have taken better care of myself and let you guys handle this.”

“You  _ should have _ . Remember what you said when we first got together? You don’t have to do this alone, learn to rely on us, J. And especially learn to rely on  _ me _ , just like I have with you.” Gavin says squeezing him tightly for a moment and burying his head in Jeremy’s chest.

“Yeah I know. I promise.”

“Good. ‘Cus like you said, this promise goes both ways. We do this together or not at all.”

“...Together sounds pretty fuckin’ great, Gav."


End file.
